


Strange Confessions

by ll_again



Series: Molly Hooper's Wizard Boyfriend [2]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, I promise, not that there is much plot, plot-necessary smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-20 08:55:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11917473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ll_again/pseuds/ll_again
Summary: Dating the Sorcerer Supreme is different, to say the least, but it doesn't exempt them from the average relationship things. Molly and Stephen both have reservations about saying a certain set of words until one day they don't.





	Strange Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> I was rewatching the bit with the fight in the astral plane and wondering how Molly would react to things bumping around in her morgue. Naturally she takes it pretty well.

 

 

"Stephen. Strange," Molly hissed through gritted teeth after the third time something rattled in the otherwise empty room. "Get the hell out of my morgue."

Silence was her only reply. Molly was elbow deep in her third autopsy of the night – day shift was going to have a new arsehole inserted for leaving her with this workload – and she was not in the mood for games. Molly couldn't say how she knew his astral self was hanging around, but she was certain he was there.

When she didn't get a reply, she bent over her cadaver and started muttering, "Okay fine, Molly. You're just talking to thin air. And I'm sure you just imagined those spooky noises. It's definitely not your stupid wizard boyfriend trying to scare you for a laugh."

"Sorcerer," came the long suffering response, as Stephen's ghostly form appeared at the head of the exam table.

Molly turned her head to look at him with a tight, vicious smile. "Got you."

Stephen sniffed, but he didn't look the slightest bit chagrined at being caught. "Cerebral edema," he said. "That's your cause of death. Right…" his translucent finger slipped through the dead man's head, "here."

"Gee, what was your first clue?" Molly said as she lifted out the spleen to be weighed. "The big dent in his skull, maybe? God, why are you my type? Why is my type always fluffed up, pompous assholes? Did I do something unforgivable in a past life?"

It was a bit of a low blow. Stephen hated to be compared to Sherlock, even obliquely, and he was smart enough to realize the connection. "I can check," he spit back.

"Sure, you go do that." Molly dropped the spleen into the scale with a wet plop, then heaved a great sigh and continued with some chagrin, "No, don't. I'm sorry. It's been a long night, and I'm cranky. I shouldn't take it out on you." Stephen's frown immediately morphed into a concerned one, but Molly shook her head. "I'm fine, really. Just busy. Look, it's 4:30 in the morning, which means it's late even in New York. Go to bed."

"I am in bed," Stephen said with a pout. "But it's very empty."

A smile curved her lips as she looked back at him. "Does that mean you're dreaming about me?"

"Mm-hm," he said, floating to her side. "I've missed you."

Contrary to expectation, Stephen's astral form radiated just the slightest heat, and Molly basked in that even while she wished for his touch. He leaned in close and breathed in with a contented hum. Molly spared a brief thought to wonder if he could smell anything from the astral plane, and then a quick second one to hope that he couldn't. Her last autopsy had been a particularly ripe floater.

"Well," Molly said, exchanging the spleen for a kidney on the scale, "you've been off saving the world for weeks."

"Exactly," he pointed out. Again. They'd already had this conversation, when he'd turned up right when she was leaving for her shift. "You could have taken the night off."

"Nope." She popped the 'p' in that particularly annoying fashion that she'd picked up from Sherlock ages ago. "If I'm not allowed to complain whenever you disappear off to unknown dimensions, then you aren't allowed to complain when my shifts are inconveniently scheduled. I know it's not as grand as yours, but this is my job. I'll be off at six, and then we have three days to ourselves as long as nothing comes up on your end."

When she looked up, Stephen was watching her with a soft smile. "I really missed you."

She ducked her head, feeling her cheeks heat. "I missed you too," Molly confessed. "Don't get me wrong, I appreciate you visiting me like this," she gestured at him, "especially when you're off doing something dangerous. But it's not the same."

"No." The tender look in his eyes morphed into something sharper. Hungrier. "Any chance you can get off a bit early?"

Molly hummed wordlessly as she thought, watching Stephen's pupils dilate with an internal smirk. "As soon as I'm done with Mr Cox, here," she said. "Want to stick around while I dig through his brain?"

Stephen lit up with glee, because of course he did.

"Come straight to New York," he said while Molly cut Mr Cox's scalp away from the bone. "We can stop by your apartment tomorrow to feed that beast of yours."

Even though the journey was, by now, common practice, it would never not be weird to Molly to casually discuss it as if she was just crossing the city instead of a literal ocean. But she nodded nonetheless, glad that she had a key to the London Sanctum so she wouldn't have to wake anybody up to let her in.

"And, for the love of all that's holy, don't walk over there," Stephen said, pinning her with a look.

Molly liked the walk. The London Sanctum was close enough, and a pretty trip on a good day besides, but in the early hours she was inclined to agree that it wasn't the best idea. "I'll take the Tube," she said.

Stephen made a noise in the negative.

Molly rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'll take a cab."

"I could come meet you."

"Don't be silly." She jabbed her saw at him for emphasis. "Sleep. I'll take a cab." And she started up the saw, stalling the conversation while the blade screeched against bone.

An hour and a half later, Molly had finished with Mr Cox, scrubbed doubly clean, made the cab journey safely, hopped continents, and was tiptoeing through the New York Sanctum towards Stephen's bedroom. She found the oversized shirt she preferred to wear to sleep draped over a chair and shrugged out of her clothes, pulling it over her head before she slipped into bed with her slumbering wizard boyfriend.

Stephen rolled over as soon as the mattress dipped, reaching for her with his eyes still shut. Molly tucked herself next to him, smiling against his collarbone as he buried his face in her hair and breathed in, sighing in contentment.

"You smell better," he said, voice heavy with sleep.

Molly pinched him in the side, gently, but right where he was most ticklish, making him jump. Stephen responded by rolling them so she was under him and catching her mouth with a heated kiss.

"Welcome home," he said against her lips.

Molly's breath caught. Oh, but she did like the sound of that. "Start with that next time," she said when she could make words again.

Stephen grinned, trailing a line of kisses along her jaw and down her throat. "You know what I love about you?" he said conversationally as his hands slid under the hem of her shirt, tracing patterns on her thighs. "You, sweetheart, are fearless."

Molly tilted her head back and laughed. "I told you. I work in a morgue; I don't scare. Sherlock tried for months once, I think he had a bet with Mike." Stephen made a disgruntled sound at the mention of her former love, but Molly twined her fingers in his hair and pulled him back to her for another kiss. "You might have more luck with the day shift," she said when they parted, all pure sunshine and wide-eyed innocence.

"Yeah?" Stephen said, nuzzling into the hollow under her ear. "Shall I go back to London then? They'll have started work by now."

"Don't you dare!" Molly squealed, clutching at him as he started to lift away from her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, dragging him back down.

Stephen caught her hips in his large palms, and stilled. "Molly. Sweetheart," he said. "You aren't wearing underwear."

Molly flashed her teeth at him. "Nope."

He responded with a low groan, and released her to tug at his clothes. Molly moved to help, pushing at his waistband while he ripped his shirt over his head and landed a sloppy kiss mostly on her lips. She nipped back as he kicked his boxers off his ankles.

"Oh God, I want you," Molly panted when his fingers slipped between her legs. "Stephen…"

He sat up, settling cross-legged on the bed and coaxing Molly into his lap. "Put your legs around my waist," he said, helping her get settled between his thighs before he hooked his thumbs under the hem of her shirt, drawing it up by inches to reveal the bare skin underneath. In the yellow light filtering through the frosted windows of Stephen's bedroom, she positively glowed.

"Perfect," he murmured. Grabbing the globes of her ass, he yanked her closer, pressing her clit against his erection and making them both gasp.

Molly wrapped her arms around him as she panted in his ear.

Stephen took possession of her lips again, sliding his tongue against hers. Breaking away, he said low into her ear, "Get a condom, will you?"

They both knew that he could easily magic one out of the bedside table, because normally that's what he did. Molly lifted one eyebrow, just enough to convey that she was onto him, and then, legs still locked around his waist, she bent backwards, bracing herself on one arm while the other reached for the drawer.

"Fuck, look at you," Stephen breathed. His hands curled around her rib cage, supporting her as she arched her bare torso. Stephen drank in the sight, in awe, once again, that this amazing woman was in his life. "You're so beautiful, sweetheart," he said. "And I'm so lucky you put up with me."

Molly shifted her hips against his heated cock. "Well," she said, lifting her head to grin at him, "there are one or two benefits to putting up with you, I think."

Stephen groaned, trailing his hands up her sides in retaliation, thumbs sliding up her stomach. Molly's head fell back when he teased along the sensitive undersides of her breasts.

"Oh God, stop," Molly said, one hand fumbling at the drawer handle. "No! No, don't stop. Pause. Just while I get… this..."

It was a little bewildering how attractive she was, even – no, especially – when she was awkward. Stephen stilled his hands, watching avidly as she strained to inch open the bedside table's drawer; she was at entirely the wrong angle to smoothly pull it out. After a great deal of wiggling, she got it open just enough to slip her hand inside and pluck out a foil packet.

"Nice work," he teased, rather more breathlessly than was strictly dignified, as he spanned a hand over the middle of her back to help her sit back up.

Molly glared at him playfully, but she wasn't in the mood for further banter. Like Stephen, she was slightly out of breath, her arousal visible as a pink flush spread over her fair skin. She tore open the condom and moved back just enough to roll it on. Neither of them said anything as Stephen guided her back to her previous position with soft touches, and lifted her up so she could slide onto him.

By mutual accord, they paused once he was fully seated inside her. Stephen wrapped his arms around her, aligning her whole body to his. Molly clung to him just as tightly, encircling him with both arms and legs. They were as close as they could be without bodily crawling into one another's skin.

"I missed you so much, sweetheart," Stephen said in a rough whisper.

"I did too," Molly said, painting the sounds onto his skin.

They both recognized that the words were proxies for another set that neither was quite ready to voice. They also knew that that time wasn't very far away.

Stephen moved his head back enough to kiss the gathered tears out of the corners of Molly's eyes, then brushed their lips together in a teasing caress. There wasn't enough room to move much, but their position stimulated Molly inside and out as she ground against him with rolling jerks of her hips. Her walls clenched spasmodically around his cock while she moved, and she came in a long, shuddering orgasm that pulled out his own.

They remained locked together in the aftermath, sweaty and loose-limbed, until necessity forced them to move.

"That was lovely," Molly said through a yawn after they'd resettled under the sheets. "Is that some secret wizard sex technique you learned at Kamer-Taj?"

Stephen chuckled lazily without opening his eyes, and twirled a chunk of her hair around his finger. "Mn-mm," he said, sleep slurring his words. "Kamasutra. I'm saving the secret _sorcerer_ sex techniques for a special occasion."

Cracking open an eye, Molly lifted her head just enough to look at her lover, who appeared to have dropped off to sleep. She kissed him anyway and laid back down to join him.

…

Molly knew where she was the moment she returned to consciousness, even before she opened her eyes. New York sounded different, for all that it had that same, big-city buzz that emanated from London.

She stretched luxuriously, pointing her toes and extending her limbs out as far as they would go, a little disappointed that she didn't bump into a bedmate. The clock on the wall said 11:30, which explained why. It also at least partly explained why she felt so well rested. In London, it was 16:30, and that was much later than she normally let herself sleep after a graveyard shift.

Molly sat up with a yawn, finger combing back her sleep and sex tousled hair, idly wondering where her wayward wizard boyfriend had got off to. As if summoned, the door opened quietly, and Stephen came through.

"Oh, good, you're awake," he said, cracking a wide smile as soon as he laid eyes on her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he hooked an arm around her waist and bent to kiss her.

"Only just," Molly said once they broke apart. She fingered the lapel of his blue 'Sorcerer Supreme' getup. "Has something come up?" she asked, not entirely able to hide her disappointed resignation.

He glanced down at his clothes and closed his hand over hers, bringing it up to kiss her knuckles. "I had a visitor," he said. "Nothing pressing."

Molly tilted her head at him, brow furrowed skeptically. Stephen chuckled at her wordless concern and cupped his free hand at the back of her head, kissing her forehead this time. "I promise," he said against the shell of her ear, making a shiver shudder its way down her spine. "Nothing that can't wait three days. Now," Stephen leaned back so he could look at her. "What do you want to do today? Kathmandu?" He dropped another kiss on her knuckles. "Vienna?" Turning her hand, the next one landed on the inside of her wrist. "Machu Picchu?" Bending down, he touched his mouth to the seam of her elbow, tongue darting out for a taste of her skin. "Me?" he asked, glittering eyes darting up to meet hers.

"Oh that last one, definitely," Molly said through a giggle. "Although, I do need to go to my flat and check on Toby. And then can we get some lunch? Or is it dinner?" She scrunched up her nose in confusion. "If we eat in London, I mean."

"Whatever you want," Stephen said, kissing her one last time before he got up and moved to the wardrobe, digging around for casual clothes. Not that Molly minded his 'ninja chic' (as she'd once playfully named it), but he did fill out a t-shirt and jeans nicely.

The door creaked open, and the Cloak of Levitation floated in, carrying a tea tray. It set the tray down and poured, stirring in a little honey just the way Molly liked it, before bringing her the steaming cup.

"Thank you, darling," Molly told it warmly, tickling the Cloak under the collar in the way it seemed to like.

Across the room, Stephen made a show of rolling his eyes.

"It's a good thing I'm not a sorcerer," Molly said playfully to the Cloak. "Then you'd have to choose between us."

The Cloak immediately flopped into her lap and twined around her waist, eliciting a burst of laughter from her. "Traitor," Stephen said to it, but just a hint of a smile lingered at the corner of his mouth, making Molly giggle more.

"You could be, you know," Stephen said. "You have the aptitude for it."

It took her a second to piece together his statement, and she immediately shook her head. "No."

Stephen's considering look turned dark as he frowned. "No," he agreed.

Molly chewed on her lip. She loved being a pathologist, but, "I do wish I could help you sometimes."

Clicking his tongue, Stephen tossed the clothes he'd pulled out onto a chair and crossed over to kneel next to her. "Sweetheart," he said, one hand on her knee. The other cupped her cheek. "You may not be saving the world, but that doesn't mean that what you do isn't important. It is." Molly opened her mouth, and he laid a finger over her lips, stalling her protest. "Trust me. I'm a sorcerer."

Molly smiled, shaking her head a little. "Isn't that meant to be, 'trust me, I'm a doctor'?"

"I'm that too," Stephen said, flashing her a bright smile as he stood. He started to undo his belt as he returned to his clothes. "Twice over, in fact. Which should make me three times as trustworthy."

Molly snorted. "Aren't you supposed to be trying to make me feel _less_ inadequate?" she said into her cup. The Cloak wrapped around her shoulders and pressed against them briefly. She couldn't help but smile.

Stephen shrugged out of his top layer and glanced over, his own mouth quirking into a smile as well. "You know," he said, "I've seen more than a fair share of brain dissections, and that one you did last night was not only technically brilliant, but sexy as hell. Believe me, sweetheart, you've got no reason to feel inadequate."

Her face flushed, and his smile bloomed into a grin. "Stephen!"

Entirely impenitent, he pulled off his wristguards and lifted an eyebrow at her. "So are you just going to sit there and watch me change?"

Molly sipped her tea nonchalantly. "Mm-hm."

Stephen only shrugged and got on with it, much to her delight. Especially when he turned his back to her as he wiggled into his jeans.

"I've got to check on a few things," he said, pulling on his jacket while Molly finally got out of bed to deposit her empty teacup on the tray. "Come get me when you're ready."

"Okay," she said, tilting her head up so he could kiss her on the way to the door.

"You," Stephen said, pointing to the Cloak. "Out. Let Molly change in peace."

The Cloak, for all its affection towards her, didn't hesitate to obey its Master and swept out, clearing the tea tray as it went.

Molly wondered, not for the first time, if there was more to the Cloak than Stephen was telling her, or if he was just unreasonably (but adorably) jealous of the magically imbued cloth.

It didn't take her long to get ready, and soon enough Molly was descending to the public areas of the Sanctum. She was greeted by one of the novices under Stephen's tutelage and stopped to chat.

"Doctor Hooper!" came a boisterous voice.

She turned towards Wong. "Mol-ly," she said, enunciating both syllables, as this was at least the fourth time she had asked him to call her by her given name.

Wong grinned at her, "I thought you must be here. Strange has been in a good mood all morning. He's in his study; I'll walk with you."

Molly waved goodbye to the novice, trotting next to Wong as they set off down the hallway. "Um," she began uncertainly.

Wong stopped moving, tilting his head curiously as he looked down at her, nodding silently for her to continue.

She chewed her lip for a moment, then carried on. "Stephen said he had a visitor."

"Yes," Wong said, watching her impassively.

"It's not … he said it wasn't serious, but … it's not is it? I mean," She looked at her feet. "I don't know what I mean."

Wong cleared his throat lightly, drawing her attention. "You don't think that Master Strange would neglect his duties and put the planet at risk, do you?"

"No!" Molly huffed. "No, of course not."

A slow smile spread over Wong's face. "Good. I didn't think you would be one to misjudge him like that. You're far too intuitive." Molly ventured a wan smile, but her worries hadn't eased, and Wong took pity on her. "We've had some news of Mordo. You know about him?"

Molly nodded in uneven jerks. "A little. Stephen said they were friends once." She pressed her lips together, unwilling to continue. Not that Stephen had said much else about the other man; not in words, anyway. His face had told her enough.

Wong laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It may come to nothing," he said. "And if it does come to something, we can contact Strange if necessary, no matter where he is. Don't let this ruin your holiday. Or his."

Wong removed his hand, nodding down the hallway. Stephen was walking their way, the Cloak of Levitation floating alongside him.

"No," Stephen was saying to it. "For the last time, you aren't coming with us."

The Cloak flipped a corner at him in what looked like a rude gesture and flew to Molly, wrapping itself loosely around her neck, arranging itself in folds over her shoulders so it resembled a shawl rather than an archaic cloak. Molly patted it gently and looked up at Stephen, "Maybe we should bring it. Just in case?"

Stephen rounded on Wong with narrowed eyes, who lifted his eyebrows at him innocently and only said, "Very fashionable, Molly," before making a strategic retreat.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Stephen said through his fingers, "What did Wong say to you?"

Molly sidled up to him and pulled his hand down, tucking hers into his elbow. "He said not to worry," she told him with a sunny smile. "So I won't."

It was a lie, and a painfully transparent one at that. Of course she was going to worry, especially whenever her intrepid wizard boyfriend was off saving the world. But she could do her best, at least, not to let it take over. That would only make them both unhappy.

"Molly," Stephen said, pausing to lick his lips. "You know that…"

"I love you." The words, the ones she'd been holding onto for what seemed like ages, simply tumbled out of her. Molly froze. "Well, I meant … no, of course I meant I love you. But I-I trust you, Stephen. That's what I'm trying to say…"

Stephen gently pulled his arm from her grip, and stepped in front of her, cupping her face in both hands, neatly cutting off her babbling with a brush of his thumb over her lower lip. A beautiful smile bloomed over his face, lighting up his eyes and all the way down to his toes.

"I love you too, sweetheart."


End file.
